


Cross the Sea and Get Some Culture

by NeoVenus22



Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: 5 Things, Gen, Stargate Crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-03
Updated: 2010-02-03
Packaged: 2017-10-07 00:08:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeoVenus22/pseuds/NeoVenus22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cameron makes a name for himself in Atlantis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cross the Sea and Get Some Culture

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: SG-1 10x03, 'The Pegasus Project'; allusions to SGA 2x11, 'The Hive'  
> Challenge: "Five Encounters With SGA Personnel Cam Had (during The Pegasus Project)."

1.  
"Oh, for the love of—" Dr. Beckett muttered. "Stop squirming, Colonel Mitchell, you're worse than Colonel Sheppard."

Sam snorted into her hand and Cameron cast her a dirty look. Standard procedure dictated that the Odyssey crew get checked out by Atlantis medical personnel before running loose in the city, and while Cameron had no particular problem with SOP, he wasn't altogether thrilled that it was the Scotsman (who seemed to have poor circulation problems, judging from how damn cold his hands were) who was jamming a needle into Cameron's ass. He would never say it aloud, but hell, he missed Carolyn Lam.

"I just don't think it's necessary, is all," Cameron complained, because they already seemed to think less of him and he might as well play his whiner role to the hilt. "I mean, I got inoculated before I left."

"Three weeks ago," Daniel said helpfully.

"Right, but all I've been doing is breathing the same air as those goons." He jerked his thumb in the direction of his team, who all seemed to be taking their checkup calmly, if not seriously. "So unless goon-itis is catching, I think I'm good."

"You might want to get some ice packs ready, Doctor Beckett," Sam said. "I think Colonel Mitchell might end up very black and blue before the day is over."

"Oh, come on," said Cameron, ducking out of the way because he didn't think Beckett should be armed with a giant needle if he was going to be laughing so hard that he shook. "Like you guys aren't tired of the 'royal treatment.'"

"More like we're tired of the royal pain," said Daniel.

"You're a big baby," Vala contributed. As though she'd never, ever complained that Lam "didn't like" her and "jammed the needle in too hard". Whatever. The only reason she was even sucking up to Beckett in the first place was because she thought he was cute. It was barely even real praise—she had already loudly declared her crushes on half the Atlantis personnel. The only reason they'd even brought her was because Teal'c said there wasn't room in the tel'tak for his end of the mission, and Landry refused to have her running around the base unsupervised. Cameron's entire military career was turning into a giant babysitting job.

"This sucks," he said, more to the universe at large.

"It'll all be over before you know it," Beckett assured him in that soothing lilt of his. Then jammed the needle in. Too hard.

 

2.  
One of Cameron's ex-girlfriends, Gina Miller (the only one in his short history where the term 'serious' might be attached), had brought him home to meet the fam once. It had been a fairly painless encounter, once Mr. Miller had stopped giving him the 'are you sleeping with my princess?' death glare. Cameron had ended up spending most of the afternoon with Gina's grandmother, who was borderline senile, cheery as hell, and taught Cameron any number of Czech slurs. So he understood perfectly the angry string of words pouring out of Dr. Zelenka's mouth.

"Whoa now. You kiss your mama with that mouth?"

Zelenka looked up from his data tablet sharply, glasses crooked, hair wild, and consternation furrowing his brows. On a roll, he spat out one final curse, but relaxed a little seeing Cameron. "My apologies, Colonel Mitchell. I did not realize you were there."

"I didn't realize there were even pigs in the Pegasus."

"Pig-like creatures." Zelenka quirked a smile. "The translation is rough. I did not realize you understood Czech."

"Let's just say I've been around. What's got you all riled up?"

"Rodney has made 'adjustments' to my calculations, rendering them completely invalid." with every breath, the words got slurred closer together, his voice a little more high-pitched. "He has not taken into consideration the shift necessary for—"

"Deep breaths, doc. McKay's the most annoying guy I've ever met, but he's just one guy. You can't let him get to you. Unless he's blowing up the city—is he blowing up the city?"

"Not today."

"I think 'of course not' would've let me sleep better at night, but I guess that's good, too."

"At least you get to return home." Zelenka made a face.

"Hey, I've heard horror stories from Sam, so I get where you're coming from."

"Ah, yes, the infamous Colonel Carter. She is quite the talk of the labs."

"Back on Earth, too. But she's fallible like the rest of us. Speaking of fallible—" He pulled from his pocket some complicated-looking doohickey he'd seen Vala trying to hide in her BDUs. "Thought this might be important. Consider it a peace offering?" He cocked a grin, hoping to convey the message he could not be held entirely responsible for the antics of his team. "And hey, a bonus gift, even." From a different pocket, the lemon Sheppard had bestowed him with. "Sheppard gave this to me, but I figured you could use it more." He tossed it and Zelenka managed to juggle that and the doohickey.

"Thank you," said Zelenka, "but I already have one of my own." Cameron looked over, and there was a bright orange tangerine-thing sitting next to the man's laptop. He then said something in Czech that was unrepeatable in mixed company.

 

3.  
"Have you met Teyla?" asked Sheppard, the picture of James Dean effortless cool.

Cameron knew what this was about; SG-1 may have been the guests of honor (particularly after the day's success), but this was still Sheppard's turf. Cameron envied him that. No matter how much he tried, no matter what he'd done today, Cameron felt like he'd never be able to match Sheppard's level of cool.

"Haven't been extended that pleasure yet."

John grinned. "You should ask her to stick-fight."

"Why do I get the feeling that's like signing my own death warrant?"

"Aw, she'll go easy on you, since it's your first time, and all."

"I'm gonna eat mat, aren't I."

"There aren't any mats in the gym."

Cameron grimaced despite himself. "Eat hardwood?"

"That's a little more accurate."

"Harsh treatment for the day's hero."

"Funny, I don't see Colonel Carter anywhere."

"So out of this arrangement, you get the sadistic pleasure of watching me bite it. What do I get out of it?"

"The clarity that only comes with having your ass handed to you by a woman half your size."

"Hell, if I wanted that, I would've stayed home and played ball with Vala."

Sheppard just kept grinning.

 

4.  
It was a city, after all. That was Cameron's excuse for getting horribly lost, and not for the first time. It was just like trying to find someplace in New York, except nothing was labeled, there was no neon to act as a North Star, and there were no angry New Yorkers to pester for directions.

Cameron made a right turn, because he thought he smelled salt water and he'd come from a room with an ocean view, and ended up smacking right into the second giantest man he'd ever met. "Uh," said Cameron, eying the gun at the guy's side. "Hello?"

"You're one of the guys from Sheppard's planet," the guy said.

Cameron sighed out relief as the pieces came together. He'd heard about this guy. "Yeah. Lieutenant Colonel Cameron Mitchell. Ronon, right?"

"Yeah." Ronon gave him a once over, one that freaked Cameron to no end. "Specialist Ronon Dex."

"Cool. What does a Specialist do?"

"Kill Wraith." Okay, the dude was just cutting notches in the freaky belt. Cameron sort of wanted to run, but figured that wouldn't go well at all.

"Oh. Well that's... cool. I guess." Well, maybe 'cool' wasn't the exact word he was looking for, but what the hell else did you say to the huge dude who had a fetish for killing space vampires?

"Are you looking for something?"

Cameron collapsed in relief. "Yeah. I got a little sidetracked... looking for my quarters... no idea where I am, really." He grinned, hoping that the 'haha, you don't wanna kill me, I'm amusing' charm that seemed to work for Sheppard would work here.

"Yeah, I don't know where you're staying, but there aren't any personal quarters around here. You're headed towards the gym."

That seemed way wrong. "Well, crap. I was just in the gym with Teyla; I don't know how I got turned completely around..."

"Teyla trains in a different gym."

"Oh."

"Were you doing the staves?"

"Yeah." And he'd be feeling it for days.

Ronon's grin was bordering on downright maniacal. "Yeah, I don't do staves. You interested?"

"Oh. Well, uh, that's very... nice of you." Cameron struggled not to cough and show his nervousness. "But we've had a really long day, blowing up that Hive ship and everything, and I just wanna take a nap before dinner, you know?" He suspected Ronon didn't know; Ronon probably slept with one eye open and a gun in each hand.

He didn't know quite what reaction he was expecting; maybe for Ronon to just go 'grr'. But he didn't, merely continued to look slightly unbalanced. Top that off with a smile, and there was nightmare fodder for at least a week. "Yeah, okay. Nearest transport's down that hall," Ronon pointed, "you can probably find your way back from there."

"Thanks dude."

"No problem. Gonna blow up any more Hive ships before you go?"

They were leaving tomorrow, so it was unlikely they'd get the chance. "We could try."

"Let me know," said Ronon with utter seriousness. "I want to be there."

Cameron offered up a 'yeah sure' wave as he headed towards the transport. Weirdness wasn't limited to the Milky Way alone, he thought. Teal'c would have a field day with this guy.

 

5.  
When his curious wanderings led him to the end of one of the resident wings, Cameron discovered a room with an open door and a bland interior. Whoever stayed here hadn't brought any possessions from home on the latest _Daedalus_ runs.

The room was heavy with dust, the sheets tucked in with redundantly military precision. The view was of one of the bordering towers, obscuring the sea. There was a book on the desk with a dog-eared page to mark the reader's place. On the chair, askew as though it'd slipped in a breeze, was a scrap of paper with the scrawled note, _ask the maj. about pjd_.

He ran into a Marine down the hall and said "Whose room is that?" He didn't know what prompted him to ask, morbid curiosity perhaps. He knew that when expedition members (those whose bodies they could salvage) were sent back to Earth, their rooms were given up to the next name on the rotation. It was a question of efficiency. But this room's occupant was conspicuously absent.

The Marine's eyes darted about, and in that moment Cameron realized this was one of the kids from the very first tour. "That's Ford's room."

The floor fell out under Cameron for half a heartbeat as his brain caught up and reminded him of the vague but grim mission reports. "The colonel won't let us touch it," said the Marine apologetically and Cameron knew he wasn't referring to Caldwell.

Cameron had watched a lot of his friends die, and knew the toll would climb higher before the war was over. But the worst was the unknown, the missing in action, because those were the ones who left the people behind with a dangerous sliver of hope. It was dangerous to rest so much faith in the unknown, but if they didn't have hope, if they didn't have faith, what the hell did they have? What made them different then the people they were fighting?

Cameron shut the door.


End file.
